@farmerman,
To begin with fm you did conflate me with Cap. Brown.
Secondly he was an expert at denaturalizing the English landscape and not at all of naturalizing it as you say. His confections were highly artificial and only look natural to a sentimental, old, baldy headed, semi-obese twat such as yourself.
Emily Bronte does the English natural landscape best.
I am attempting a more difficult task. It is the psychic landscape I am interested in. Any fool with sufficient funds at his disposal could move earth around, plant trees in a seemingly random fashion and produce a living oil painting in the French windows with the Christian perspective built into it so that his master could satisfy his aesthetic and self-flattering taste for order. It's not unlike Dior frocks which, when naturalised, lie in a crumpled and unconsidered heap on the carpet beside the four poster.
I will agree that I have heard the sort of tripe you have written many times before. It is just one version, a very ordinary one at that, of a reflex of the release into your bloodstream of certain concentrations of adrenaline, noadrenaline, adrenochrome and serotonin and other more subtle chemicals at the sight of a spendipost. A Pavlovian response involving frustration and rage. Chill out man.